


The Aftermath

by Starr5



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 07:51:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6558310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starr5/pseuds/Starr5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Root being unpredictable, Shaw is at a loss as to what to do with this new and slightly bitter Root.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. God damn it Root.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this boat is going but I'll try to keep it on course.

“No, no, no. What the hell are you doing Root?” Shaw groaned, “What part of ‘don’t shoot at center mass’ don’t you understand? sighing in frustration, “That’s just perfect.....Harold is going to be pissed off and more than just a little disappointed. You’ll be lucky if he lets you in the subway after this cluster fuck.” Root smiles and says, “Harold’s rules are not my rules nor do I care what he thinks”. As she walks away she tosses over her shoulder, “If it wasn’t for Harold and his rules we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.”

Shaw being ever the good soldier curses while dragging the body into the ruins of the warehouse. Cleaning up yet another mess. If she just pretends none of this happened then with any luck Harold will never know that Root has gone a bit off the reservation. “God damn it Root” Shaw mutters under her breath. Shaw is torn by what Root has done and yet feels a certain obligation to keep her secrets even though Root clearly no longer answers to Harold....if she ever did. Shaw is not willing to be put in the position of choosing between Root and the cage Harold and Reese will surely put her in. “God damn it Root.”

By the time Shaw gets done cleaning up Root’s screw-up, she is more than just a little pissed. Root is leaning against the car in a relaxed manner only a psychopath could possibly have after just killing someone. If Shaw weren’t so pissed she might find this mildly attractive, but as it stands now, she just wants to knock the smirk right off of Root’s face. Although Shaw guesses that the only difference between her killing someone and Root killing someone is that Root is the one smiling during the act. Root does have a beautiful smile though.

When Shaw reaches the car she says, “Look.....from now on you can clean up your own scene of the murder. At least when they’re wounded they can limp away and you don’t have to worry about digging a hole.” Shaw, trying to keep her anger under control tries to appeal to Root in a way that may convince her to not kill everything that moves. “I know that we have an uphill battle with Samaritan but we can’t stoop to their level. We are better than that.” Sighing for what feels like the tenth time in as many minutes, “You are better than that.” Shaw tries not to cringe at the way she sounds; like she’s giving a pep talk to a troubled teen. This is so not in her wheelhouse; appealing to calmer minds when clearly Root has lost hers. 

Throughout Shaw’s diatribe Root inspects her fingernails and stares off into the distance. “Are you listening to me?” Shaw yells. All calm having flown the coop. “What does She have to say about this killing spree you’re on?” Root snorts at that and says, “I just killed the one guy; there is no spree........just the one guy and for your information, he was about to shoot you in the back.” after a beat, “You’re welcome.” With that Root gets into the passengers side and waits for Shaw to take them back to the subway station.

Driving in silence, Shaw reflects on the evolution of her relationship with Root. Though not gone completely, the flirting has receded to almost nil and the perky psycho is almost gone from sight. Shaw wonders at the cost of this war and whether or not their remains will even remotely resemble the people they once were. For her part, nothing ever changes; for better or worse she always remains the same. Shaw doesn’t have the emotional investments that the other team mates have and for once she’s glad she doesn’t have the capacity to care all that much. She sees though, the toll it’s taken on her cohorts and if she could feel sorry for them she would. However, her main concern at the moment was Root; she doesn’t know how to be there for her, to help her or to even lend an ear in the event Root would actually confide in her. If Shaw could long for something it would be for the Root she left behind in the elevator and not this apathetic shell of a person she has become.

After a bit and once Shaw felt calmer she asked, “What does She say Root? I need to know if you can be trusted with not going on a blind rampage in your one woman quest to bring down Samaritan.” Root stared at her for a bit and with sadness in her voice she says, “She’s been silent; I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be doing. I keep hoping I’ll get her guidance because we all know, no good has ever come from me being left to my own devises.” With that Root stares out the window. 

After her return from the clutches of Samaritan’s goons Shaw had months of rehabilitation to look forward to. During this time neither Root nor herself had had the chance to revisit the last moments in the basement of the stock-exchange. Shaw is beginning to think her silence was a huge mistake. Clearly Root had gone to hell and back trying find her and she has it on good authority Root took several folks to hell with her, though they won’t be coming back. Shaw thinks the lack of her recognition of the kiss has left Root even more unsettled than usual. Root was driven for months to find Shaw and the only thing she repaid Root with is anger at her own weakness and more distance. The unwavering cheer and undying loyalty may have reached its limit and now Root is coming undone. So what does a caring, feeling person do? What does a friend or love interest do? Shaw figures she had better get that sorted out soon or she will have no choice but to restrain Root until she gets a grip on her life. Shaw doubts Root will be the same docile person that was previously caged; more likely a rabid dog that not even she would be able to tame. 

Once they entered the station, they both went their own way or as far away as you can get in a subway depot. Reese was sitting with Bear between his knees all the while making kissing noises. Shaw could barely disguise her disgust at the spectacle, she also thought it may be prudent to be more discreet in her own show of attention towards the dog. She would never hear the end of it from Reese should she get caught making cooing noises or embarrassingly........baby talk.

Harold was predictably sitting in front of his computer screens and without looking in her direction he asked “Was the issue resolved with the number Ms. Shaw?” Shaw grunted in the affirmative; hoping the subject would be dropped. However Root had other plans and took this inopportune moment to poke her head in the door of the subway car. Root then decided to chime in with more information than Shaw really wanted to give, if only to keep Root’s rediscovered murderous nature a secret. Root said, “He was Decima Harold.......did you know that? It was a set-up........much like the time I set you and John up..........ahhh the memories. Although it didn’t end quite as well for this fellow though.” And with that, Root walked away and out of the station.

Shaw was cursing herself for having not gotten out of the station before Root. Shaw tried to make herself invisible or as small as possible and tried to distract Bear away from Reese if for no other reason than to avoid having to be directly confronted by Harold without the buffer of the dog.  
Harold swung around to glare after Root and all Shaw could do is mumble under her breath, “God damn it Root.”


	2. Hearts, minds and bodies.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root does some soul searching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still steering the boat so don't jump off yet. This is the first time I've written fiction so any feedback would be welcome. Jot me a note and let me know how I'm doing. Throw some ideas my way if you see a direction you'd like this tale of woe to go. Cheers

Root had decided not long after getting caught by Control that Harold was a foolish and naive man. With the proof of what was sure to come, Harold still held fast to his morality. Requiring that the Machine’s assets abide by rules not afforded to the enemy. Knowing full well that Decima agents are not aiming for kneecaps, they are not shooting rubber bullets; they are playing for keeps, to Roots way of thinking, a dead Decima agent is an agent that won’t recover to shoot you at a later date. 

The frustration and anger Root felt was because the hand writing was on the wall. Forecasts of the things to come time and time again were made known and yet Harold was either was in complete denial or was off living on another planet. How many times had they been provided with the information to at the very least cripple Samaritan? How many times did Harold make the wrong choice based on some misguided morality? Countless times in Root’s opinion. Killing the congressman might have been a little extreme but only in that a congressman is easily replaced and it would have been pointless as it would only hold off the inevitable for so long. If killing the congressman would have ended Samaritan, Root would have gladly pulled the trigger herself. 

With all things said and done, Root knows she has lost her way. She no longer feels the need to abide by the constraints placed by Harold and she also knows this may be her undoing. Somewhere in between losing Shaw and the dire future being played out in real time, Root’s understanding of reality shifted a little to the left. There was now a twist at the end of every sentence, a slight deviation in her usual response to things around her. Yesterday being a good example; she could have easily incapacitated the number and called it a day but there was that new flaw, allowing her to ignore the rules. When faced with the options, she chose the one that would likely ease that ache in her heart. She wanted that man dead and so that’s what she did........she killed him, for no other reason but to try and sooth an old pain. 

Up until she lost Shaw to the Decima agents, Root was clear on the objectives placed by the Machine. She didn’t question why she was being asked to do something, she just did it and she did it gladly. After that fateful day things got blurry. Once the shock of seeing Shaw shot and presumably dead had worn off, Root was filled with a hate and rage so thick it was all she could do to breathe or swallow. Her self guided mission from that point on was to kill as many of her enemy as possible; but only after they been questioned in her own special way. Going on the belief that it would take whole lot more than mere bullets to take Shaw down, Root got out the proverbial blow torch and began burning the city down to find her. Root only stopped when her body would carry her no further or when the injuries were too great to ignore. Harold and John had stopped trying to stifle her anger and finally decided she was better as the devil you know and it was wise to stay out of her way. Only when Root’s erratic behavior threatened civilians did Reese and Harold step in and intervene. 

When Shaw’s location was determined, Root cut a swath of blood and brains through the entire Decima compound. Anybody that came between her and Shaw was cut down without mercy. Reese, though willing to do whatever it took to get Shaw back still tried the whole shoot them in the kneecap thing until he noticed that Root was quickly dispatching his victims in a more permanent fashion as she walked behind him. Due to the multitude of enemy agents that would see them both dead, Reese simply gave up the argument and grudgingly started taking kill shots of his own. 

Finally with the door to Shaw’s cell found and breached, Root collapsed like she had just ran a marathon and Shaw was her finish line. Never had she felt such relief and the sorrow of the last many months crashed down upon her. It was hard to say at that point who was in worse shape, her or Shaw. Shaw had been tortured in unimaginable ways and her injuries were many. The injuries that Root carried, aside from the gunshot wounds and knife slashes were deep inside of her. 

Shaw, ever the good soldier slurred out an order for Root to release her but beyond that she was fairly incoherent and it wasn’t until she was safely away did she allow herself a relieved sigh. For that matter, there was a collective sigh of relief from all four of them once they knew they were out of harms way. It would take time to heal the body but their wounded souls might never recover. Neither Shaw or Root were real big into introspection but they knew they were miles from where they had left off at the elevator. Even the promise of the kiss would have to wait until hearts, minds and bodies healed.


End file.
